


Don't Tell Treville

by privateerwrites



Series: Musketeer March 2021 [14]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Couch Cuddles, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, though its kinda background but that is the setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 17:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/privateerwrites/pseuds/privateerwrites
Summary: Musketeer March Day 14- "Don't tell Treville"Athos finds Aramis crying in a bathroom and Porthos shows up, and they comfort him.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay & Athos | Comte de la Fère & Porthos du Vallon, background Aramis | René d'Herblay/Marsac (The Musketeers 2014)
Series: Musketeer March 2021 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188632
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Don't Tell Treville

**Author's Note:**

> Summary of why I put the Implied/Referenced Homophobia tag there in the end notes, if you need that. 
> 
> This is vaguely usamerican but honestly it's just in high school for setting excuses.
> 
> and yeah i need to catch up on the prompts ksjdhf i know

Aramis is shaking on the floor of the third-floor bathroom, feeling a little like his life is falling apart in his hands. His hands are trembling and his heart is racing and he is trying very, very hard not to fall into a panicky spiral.   
  
Athos' face is a muddy mix of emotions that Aramis doesn't have the ability to pick apart, not right now. Not when he's trying to keep himself from flying apart into a million pieces. The door to the bathroom slams shut behind Marsac as he runs out, away from Athos and Aramis, gone, gone, gone. (It’s what Aramis suspected would happen, in any case.)   
  
"Don't tell Treville," he chokes out. "Please."   
  
"Aramis-," Athos starts.   
  
"Please," Aramis says, and he's begging now, bowing his head to Athos, something he'd never do in any other situation, but he can't afford to lose this- lose Treville, lose Porthos, lose Athos. He's already on his knees on the ground anyway, but he'd be getting there if he weren’t.   
  
"Aramis," Athos begins again, softly. He sinks to one knee on the floor beside Aramis, his leg shielding Aramis from the rest of the room even though they're alone on the third floor, in the bathroom that nobody uses except for the queer kids who want to make out or use the proper bathroom without fear. He puts his hand on Aramis' shoulder, rubs it up and down gently in a soothing gesture.   
  
"Treville will not-"   
  
"He'll hate me, Athos."   
  
Something in Athos breaks, hearing that.   
  
"Aramis. Aramis, you can't think that."   
  
There's a knock at the door, and then a quiet, "All for one?"   
  
"And one for all," Athos replies. Porthos steps in.   
  
"Hey, what-"   
  
Athos shakes his head. "You can't tell Treville," he says flatly. Porthos nods and sits on the floor next to Aramis, pulls him into his lap.   
  
"What aren't we tellin' Treville?"   
  
"That- that I'm- here? That I'm, um, yeah."   
  
Porthos rocks him back and forth gently, arms around Aramis. "What do you need, 'Mis?"   
  
"Hold me? Stay."   
  
"Of course."   
  
Athos stands, stiffly.   
  
"I'll be right back," he tells them, though it's more of a courtesy than anything else since they’re going to be occupied like that for a while anyway, and he runs down the 3rd floor stairs, down to his locker, grabs a handful of the comfort snacks he keeps for Aramis and jogs back up to them.   
  
His brothers are just where he left them, sitting on the floor together. Porthos is singing now, a soothing wordless tune that Athos distantly recognizes melodically but couldn't place or name specifically if you asked him.   
  
Porthos is also running his hand through Aramis' hair, and Aramis has stopped sobbing now, has calmed from his previous hysterics to now being curled into Porthos' body fully, as if he can bury his fear and sadness there and leave it outside himself.   
  
"Hey," Athos says softly, reaching out the granola bar.   
  
"Hi," Aramis sniffles. He grabs the food, tears open the package, and does what can only be described as _slamming_ the food down, chewing fast and hard, a graceless maneuver that makes Athos cringe internally every time he sees it.   
  
"Let's- let's go back. I'm good now," he says when the granola bar is gone and his voice is a little steadier for the food.   
  
"No," Porthos tells him- tells them both, really. "We're going home."   
  
Technically, this isn't an impossibility. Athos has full afternoon release. Aramis has partial release, a sturdy hall, and one online class. Porthos has a class, but it's an independent study that mostly ends up unsupervised anyway- he can get out of it easily enough.   
  
"Okay," Aramis says quietly. "Okay, then." He stands and brushes his pants off briskly, walks to the sink. He lets the cold water run for a moment before cupping his hands under the faucet and splashing the water on his face. When he looks up, there is a wad of brown and mostly ineffective school paper towel being offered to him by Athos. He takes it and scrubs it over his face, not caring about the red lines and vague, light scrapes it leaves behind.   
  
Porthos leaves first, making sure that they are still alone in the hallway with the third-floor bathroom, and upon discovering that they are still the only people there, gestures to Athos and Aramis. Aramis takes Athos' hand and squeezes it as they wander out into the hallway together. They walk side-by-side-by-side down the staircase, to the second floor (avoid Treville's classroom, avoid Richelieu's office) and then down the last and widest set of stairs, the ones where Athos is not squished into the wall by staying next to the other two but instead has plenty of room to walk.   
  
Mrs. Medici smiles at them as they walk into the main office.   
  
"What can I do for you boys," she asks, her voice chirping and bright.   
  
"We're takin' early release."   
  
"And you have clearance for that?"   
  
"Yes, ma'am."   
  
"Well, alright then!"   
  
She hands over a clipboard, and Athos writes their names, student numbers, and the time on the sheet, an easy and familiar task. She glances over it once, twice, three times when he hands it over, and then waves them off.   
  
"Enjoy!"   
  
"We will," Porthos says, though his voice rather betrays that that's not why they're going home.   
  
They pile into Porthos' car, the vehicle they take to school. Athos and Aramis settle in the backseat, Aramis curled up close to Athos, neither one wearing a seat belt for the sake of convenience. Athos strokes Aramis' hair in soothing motions as the car begins to move, and in the fifteen minutes it takes Porthos to drive home, Aramis falls asleep, finally worn out from the emotional roller coaster of the last half hour.   
  
They stay sitting in the car for a long, long while, letting Aramis nap and talking quietly between themselves. When he wakes an hour later, they head inside and pile onto the couch, surrounding him with their love and care, and when Treville comes home, this is how he finds them, holding each other and wrapped up in blankets and pillows, comfortable in each other's presence.

**Author's Note:**

> Tag- Athos sees Aramis kissing Marsac. Aramis assumes that he will lose Porthos and Athos' friendship, along with Treville's guardianship if they find out that he's attracted to men. He also assumes that Treville will hate him for this.
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!!
> 
> I'm also privateerstudies on tumblr, if that's more your thing!


End file.
